


After

by JustGettingBy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War, and they were ROOMMATES, at least in the hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGettingBy/pseuds/JustGettingBy
Summary: The morning after the end of the war, Sokka wakes up next to Zuko. Everything might be okay.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 400





	After

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying to get some words out to hit my daily goal so enjoy this fluff.

The day after the end of the war, Sokka wakes up next to the Fire Lord. 

Technically, he’s not the Fire Lord yet. Only after the ceremony (which Iroh explained is a grand ordeal) can Zuko officially claim the title. Until then, he’s just Zuko. Or maybe Prince Zuko again. Or Crown Prince Zuko? The whole thing makes Sokka’s head throb. Titles, ranks, all these formalities… what’s the point? Some of the worst people Sokka’s ever met have the most revered titles. But that’s a problem to solve another day. 

Because, titles aside, Zuko is still unconscious. Whether or not he’s the Fire Lord doesn’t do a thing to change that fact. 

And this isn’t really how Sokka pictured how waking up next to Zuko would be. Not that he’s imagined that scenario. Nope. Never. 

Sokka stretches and shifts on his cot, jostling his leg. A jolt of pain shoots up and he swears under his breath. Katara had done the best she could yesterday, but others needed her help more. Others like Zuko, who took a chestful of electricity. Sokka pushes his own aches aside and focuses on Zuko, who lays in the cot on the other side of the room. Midday sunlight falls across his face and messy hair. He doesn’t stir, despite his whole ‘I rise with the sun’ spiel. 

Sokka watches him until he’s certain that the small stir of Zuko’s movement is, in fact, caused by his breathing and not just the soft breeze rustling his bedsheets. Once he’s satisfied that Zuko’s heart didn’t give out overnight, he shifts again--minding his leg this time--and stares at the ceiling. He feels...weird. He guesses that’s in no small part due to the painkillers some fire nation healer gave him. Back at home, they didn’t have anything this strong, only teas and mild numbing agents. But whatever was in those herbs he chewed before bed last night sent him through a loop--Sokka’s head feels warm and heavy, even though it's mostly worn off. 

Hopefully, someone will be by soon with more of it. Until his leg is on the mend, he’d rather not have to focus on how painful it is. But the medicinal herbs also curb his appetite, and now that they’re mostly out of his system his gut rumbles with hunger. He only ate some light broth before going to sleep last night. He’s surprised he even managed to sleep after everything that had happened, but between the amount of adrenaline that pumped through his system and the drowsy effects of the herbs, Sokka slept like the dead. 

But, yeah. Now he’s hungry. Starving, even. And he could also use a washroom break. But it’s too painful to stand and he doesn’t want to yell for the healers. Hence the whole ‘staring at the ceiling’ thing. Someone should be by soon, anyway. Half a candle mark, at most. 

Next to him, Zuko groans.

Sokka turns and stares. Should he call for a healer? 

Zuko’s head thrashes from side to side and he bundles the thin blanket in his fist. 

“Zuko? Buddy?”

“No,” Zuko groans. “No!”

“Zuko,” Sokka calls, but Zuko only continues to thrash in distress. Sokka grits his teeth, stands, and shuffles over to Zuko’s cot with the crutch by his bedside. 

“Buddy,” he says, gently nudging his shoulder. “You gotta wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Zuko turns his head once more and sucks in a breath. “Azula!” he says, his eyes flying open. He claws at the wrap of bandages on his chest. 

“Um, no. I’m Sokka, actually.” Sokka takes Zuko’s hand and brings it away from pulling off any bandages. Katara would never forgive him if the wound got infected, even if it’s not his fault, Sokka’s sure his sister would scold him for not keeping a better eye on his roommate. 

Zuko doesn’t laugh at the joke, but he does look slightly less panicked, which is all Sokka can hope for, really. It still takes a few moments for his rapid breath to slow to a normal rate. 

“Sokka?”

“That’s me.” 

Zuko’s right eye widens and his gaze darts around the room. “I--Azula--she attacked me. There was lightning.”

Sokka nods slowly. “You saved my sister’s life. Thank you.”

“She saved mine.” Zuko runs his hand over the edge of the bandage, but he doesn’t pick at it. 

“I dreamt that Aang lost,” he admits quietly. “And that my father came for me, with Azula at his side.”

“Aang’s talking with leaders from the Nations. Ozai is in jail and Azula is in the hospital,” Sokka says without really knowing what else to add. “We won.”

Zuko swallows and nods. “This is real,” he says. 

“Yeah,” Sokka confirms. “It is.” 

Zuko closes his eyes. For the first time since Sokka met him, he looks peaceful. At ease. 

Until he shifts and winces. His hand flies to his chest again and he lets out a strained hiss. 

“I can get the healer if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I just need some rest.” 

Sokka nods and starts to stand. “I’ll get out of your way.”

Zuko’s fingers wrap around his wrist. “Sokka,” he says. “Can you stay?”

Sokka doesn’t say anything. He’s frozen and staring at the pools of gold in Zuko’s eyes.

Zuko’s cheek flushes. “It’s just--well, the nightmares--you know?” He flattens his lips to a line. “Actually, maybe forget I said that.”

“No! No,” Sokka says. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re sure. I mean, you’re hurt. I’m hurt. It’s not a great day for either of us.” 

“I don’t know,” Zuko says with a dry chuckle. “It could be worse.”

Sokka blinks. _Oh._ “We’re both alive, I’ll give you that.”

Zuko shifts over on his small cot, making room for Sokka. “I feel like I can breathe again,” he says. 

“Me too.” Sokka maneuvers himself carefully and watches that he doesn’t jostle his leg. 

“We won,” Zuko says. 

“We did,” Sokka confirms.

“This is real.” Zuko pulls the thin blanket up over both of them. 

From the window, fresh air and sunlight wash over Sokka’s skin. “This is real,” Sokka confirms. _This is real._


End file.
